


I'm Afraid I Can

by RimauSuaLay



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-20
Updated: 2010-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:32:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RimauSuaLay/pseuds/RimauSuaLay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan has issues. Adam has a plan. Cook is a good host, but someone still has to pay for the dry cleaning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Afraid I Can

**Author's Note:**

> Story contains very mild BDSM (kinda, though not really), angst and various issues. Extra thanks to Tvillingar for the beta.

Cook hands the parking ticket to the valet and then tries to look nonchalant as he waits for his car. He's glad the venue's been doing these kinds of events for a while now; there's a side door and a lot of coverage, and there are no paparazzi anywhere to be seen. Still, he leans against the wall, face impassive.

This is definitely not how he thought this night would go when he'd pulled himself away from the recording for yet another mandatory label party.

Well, to be honest, the first hour or so was just as he'd imagined: the usual faces, the usual gossip. People milling around, latching onto whomever they thought would put them on the front page of some gosspip rag. Cook was pretty glad he wasn't one to make it to the front page himself right now, not like that.

He had a good spot in a nice quiet corner sipping from his glass of coke, looking like he was having a blast while watching new talents walk around in a daze, waving at Randy Jackson when he passed by. It was all going so well, with his existence here a non-event when everyone would rather focus on Adam Lambert and then someone walked in with Lady Gaga, and Cook pretty much figured out it was time to go home.

Of course he should have left immediately. But no. He'd lingered just long enough to finish his drink and realize a pit stop at the men's room was needed before the drive home.

That's when everything went pear shaped.

The valet drives the car smoothly near the exit and then grins at him as he tips him again, out of habit. Cook waits for the man to move away, which he does with a vaguely curious expression on his face, but clearly the staff here is well briefed and well paid for this. The things they must see every weekend would make TMZ people and Perez go into hysterics. Discretion's the word of the day.

"Come on!" he whispers frantically over his shoulder. "We've got to move!" Without waiting for an answer, he rushes to open the door and then watches two people stumble out of the building, one holding the other up. "Get in the back seat with him," he hisses rather frantically before slamming the door closed, conveniently cutting whatever sarcastic comment Adam is about to make, and hurries to the driver's side.

"Very suave, Cook. You would have made an excellent secret agent."

Cook buckles the seatbelt. "We could have let your people deal with this, you know? It was your idea to play the singing detective and do this on our own."

"True." Adam nods. "But I think the less people know about this the better. My people still work for RCA first, and they _will_ inform 19 about this, and it'll probably ruin more than one career."

Cook has to agree with that. "Yeah, okay." He pulls out the curb and into the late traffic, keeping his attention divided between the backseat and the road. "So where do we go? Your place?"

"Too many people there. You live alone?" Adam doesn't look up as he says that, still staring at the unresponsive man next to him.

"Yeah," Cook nods, though he doesn't really think this is a good idea. "Okay. My place."

All sorts of teenage horror movies start like this; two guys stumble onto something way too big for them, and it'll turn around to bite them in the ass. They do stupid shit trying to be big heroes, never calling the police, never asking for help, and they, as well as some big bosomed girls, end up fighting for their lives in an abandoned cottage.

Though this isn't exactly the same.

"Is he all right?" Cook asks, and risks a brief look over his shoulder.

He sees Adam managed to get them both buckled up, and is keeping an eye on Ryan Seacrest, who is just sitting there and staring straight ahead with his eyes as hard as agates.

"I think so. He..." Jolting at a chirping sound that comes from somewhere inside his clothes, Adam goes in search for his cell phone, never taking his eyes off Ryan. "Yeah? Okay. Good." He lets out a relieved sigh. "Okay, thank you. I mean it. Yeah. I'm okay. No. _No, I did not_. Yeah, it's your job to ask. No. Okay. Thanks."

Cook doesn't dare to sigh with relief quite yet. "Good news?"

"Yeah. They got help in time, and they think that kid will be just fine. He's on his way into the hospital as we speak." Laughing a little tensely, Adam adds, "You know I think I'm getting old when I start calling twentysomethings as kids."

"Anyone stupid enough to come to a Hollywood party to OD in the men's room with his pants around his ankles is a kid, no matter how old." Cook ignores the fact that the town's full of people like that. "They say anything about Ryan?" It's easy to talk about the man like he's not even there; he's been quiet ever since they stumbled upon him.

"No. Apparently no one saw him there, or if they did, they thought he was with us."

The phrasing could have been better, but Cook gets the point. "Yeah. I don't think any one of us would be stupid enough to try anything like that when we know we're gonna get busted for it." He sounds prim and proper and hell yeah, he means it as a criticism.

Adam laughs on the backseat. "You should talk to my people. They aren't that convinced."

"Yes, I'm sure you've had plenty of fun around the town, but come on. Even you wouldn't get stoned in a party like that and then end up fooling around with some unnamed groupie in the men's room. You're more professional than that." There are

parties where you can do pretty much as you please, and then there are parties that are meant for smooching and false smiles. Cook knows the difference, and he's sure Adam does too.

"Even I?" The question comes out half offended, half amused.

Cook shakes his head. "I've seen the pictures, Lambert. You're not the epitome of discretion."

"Yeah," Adam nods. "So true." He sounds almost proud of that. "I just want to know whose good idea it was to get Ryan so high he'd do something as stupid as that."

That's what Cook wants to know too. "Yeah. If we hadn't stumbled into those two..." He shudders, and doesn't finish his sentence.

Funny, how so many coincidences had led to it; his decision to leave, Adam taking a break from all the smooching by excusing himself, the two of them bumping into each other outside the men's room and sharing a few polite words before Adam pushed the door open. Had that kid taken Ryan into one of the stalls with a sturdier door and a lock that actually worked, they might have never seen the kid keel over with frothy saliva pouring down his chin.

It was all a rush after that, Adam calling his people, Cook pulling Ryan up from the floor and keeping a firm hand on his arm as he swayed a little with shock or whatever he'd taken. Staying there just long enough for Adam's handlers to arrive and then making a perfectly executed escape through the back door.

The lights ahead are turning yellow and Cook slows down, knowing the last thing they need is to run red lights and get pulled over. He thrums his fingers nervously against the wheel, wondering if they should think this whole thing through again, because what if it wasn't an overdose but something else, a bad patch of whatever the kid took, and what if Ryan is about to  
start convulsing next. "You think he's okay?" he asks Adam.

"I am perfectly fine," Ryan says, the first words coming out of him spelled out calmly with a tense, almost icy undertone.

Cook jolts, his gaze meeting Adam's through the rearview mirror.

"You are?" Adam asks. Doesn't sound like he believes it.

"Yes. Not that I'm trying to ruin your heroic rescue, but I'm not drunk or high." There's a weird look on Ryan's face. "And I knew exactly what I was doing."

That's pretty hard to believe. Cook doesn't pretend to know everyone who's ever been a part of the whole Idol machine, but he knows Ryan Seacrest, and he's usually so tightly wound about personal issues he'd _never_ even consider something as stupid as public sex. With a man. Not while being anywhere near sober anyway.

But with a glance at Ryan, he has to admit he looks pretty normal, despite the dark shadows under his eyes. His pupils seem to react the way they should, and as he notices Cook watching, he raises an eyebrow slightly, his reaction so understated and _natural_ that just maybe he's telling the truth after all. That's a good thing, though it does raise other questions.

"You know what you were doing was getting on your knees and ready to suck a guy off back there?" Adam's voice is casual.

It's good they are caught at the red lights; Cook's pretty sure he would have swerved into the wrong lane, straight at the incoming traffic, hearing it said out loud like that. It would have been such a tragedy, three lives ending in a fiery crash, ruining 19's year. So very sad. Almost like the heart attack Adam is going to cause him if he keeps going on like that.

Cocking his head, Ryan finally looks at Adam, and his smile is crooked, galaxies away from his usual, practiced grin. "No. That was foreplay. I was going to get fucked back there." He shrugs. "Had he not keeled over, that is."

The lights turn green, and Cook kind of overcompensates as he hits the gas.

"Mhh." Doesn't sound like Adam is actually shocked to hear that. "Didn't think spontaneous gay sex was your thing."

Ryan doesn't say anything to that.

"Okay, so if he's really not high, should we just drop him off at his place?" Maybe this whole thing won't end as badly as Cook thought. He hazards another glance at the rearview mirror.

Adam shakes his head. "No. Let's just go to your place. I think we need to have a little talk."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Ryan asks rather mockingly.

"No, you don't."

Cook nods at that and keeps driving.

He isn't sure this is a good idea, but the alternative is worse; he doesn't want to be the kind of guy who just drops people off when they're doing idiotic things, and then goes on with his business. Not like this, not when it's someone he kind of respects. They are too much alike under all the crap; hard working, professional, and that still has to mean something. And besides, who else is going to do this? If they let Ryan slip away like nothing happened, who knows what'll happen at the next party.

Though yeah, doing some weird intervention with Adam Lambert isn't exactly what he thought was going to happen tonight. He imagined an early evening in bed and a good night's sleep before another full day at the studio.

The drive isn't too long, and Cook's glad Ryan is just sitting there and not arguing this. He's not sure what they'd do if Ryan told him to pull over and let him out, and he's glad this isn't turning into a parody. Two platinum selling artists kidnap a host for a serious talk about public gay sex?

He's definitely going to let Adam do the talking.

Parking the car neatly by the driveway, he gets out and waits for the others to join him before activating the central locking system. He leads the way to the door, glad that both Adam and Ryan follow without comments, and then makes the usual welcoming gestures, points at the couch on the living room, and then excuses himself for that badly needed bathroom break. When he comes back, he stands at the doorway for a moment, pondering the merits of some refreshments.

He finally decides against it, padding to an arm chair by the couch. It's not like he's _that_ concerned about drinking, his time in Tulsa teaching him a lesson or two about mixing booze and work, but he hasn't had much to drink since they started on the second big album. The last thing he needs tomorrow is a self induced headache.

Besides, he thinks that if he starts now, they'll all end up plastered on the floor.

Taking his cues from Adam, he sits quietly and watches Ryan, who is sitting there calmly next to Adam, a distant look on his face. It's the most uncomfortable silence Cook's been a part of in some time, and he doesn't want to think of what's been worse than this.

Adam's phone rings again, and he answers it after glancing at the caller ID. "Yeah. Good. No. Thanks. Bye." It's a terse conversation with monosyllables. He puts the phone back into his pocket and sighs. "That was from one of my PAs. They got the guy to the hospital in time. He's gonna be fine."

Cook nods, relieved by the news even though he's never seen the kid before and probably never will again.

It gets the first genuine reaction out of Ryan. He looks up, alert, and mutters, "Good."

"Yeah," Adam nods. "Do you even know his name?"

Ryan doesn't seem to be surprised by the question. "No."

"So you just decided it was time to start fucking unnamed groupies?" Still conversational, like Adam has these little talks every day.

Cook doesn't blame anyone who gets a bit overwhelmed every now and then and does insane stuff like anonymous sex, though when you're someone like Ryan Seacrest, no sex is really anonymous. Hell, he doesn't give a damn if people just want to do it on a whim, after a few minutes of mutual attraction. But this thing? It's stupid and dangerous, and it's not like the Ryan he knows.

"What makes you think I haven't been doing this before?"

Adam shrugs. "I've been back from Europe long enough to hear the latest gossip, and believe me, I would have heard if you did this regularly." His smile is sharp, cutting. "Or even occasionally. I know the rumor mill, but you've never been caught with your pants around your ankles, so it's all speculations. "

That's a bit more blunt than Cook would have gone with, but he has to admit Adam's right. "Besides, you didn't just go home with a groupie. That would be stupid, but not suicidal. Do you have any idea what would have happened if one of the execs had found you like that?"

Or someone else. There had been dozens of people who wouldn't have cared, but just as many would have been delighted to get dirt on someone famous. Not to mention those who worked with Ryan.

Cook blinks at the thought of Randy Jackson walking in on a scene like they'd witnessed earlier; his patented _what?_ would have shattered every single window in the building. He wonders if Ryan even thought that far.

"They've seen worse," comes Ryan's flippant reply.

"Oh come on." It's like talking to a kid, Cook hasn't heard that kind of petulance from anyone over fifteen for years, and he's been working in Hollywood with some serious divas. "What were you _thinking_?"

He doesn't care if it's Ryan Seacrest, who is slick and suave and almost ten years older than he is. Right now the man is being a total jackass.

"Probably not that much, or maybe just with the other head," Adam says with a slight smirk.

Ryan turns a little on the couch, looking at Adam angrily. "Yes, I wanted to get laid. So what? It's not exactly a crime." His voice never raises, but there's a sting of something behind the words, showing real emotion.

"Come on, Ryan. You're not gay enough to do something like that totally sober." Exasperated, Adam leans forward. "Or even after a couple of drinks. You don't just decide you want to flush your career down the toilet for a fuck."

"You really sure about that?"

Cook looks from one angry man to the other. It's becoming really catty, and he can't decide whether to enjoy it or run for cover.

These two are probably the nicest guys he's met in show business, Ryan getting along with everyone with a practiced ease, his routine neither transparent nor annoying and Adam just being _nice_. It's somehow disturbing to watch them all but tear into each other with words. Cook gets being horny and tired, but man, this is something else.

Adam leans back against the couch smiling a little. "You just decided you wanted to have sex with a man?" he asks, all the anger sliding off both his voice and his body language.

Without a pause, Ryan copies his posture, almost melting into the cushions. "Yes."

Cook doesn't believe that for a second. He almost asks what could possibly have made Ryan decide on something like that now, but he doesn't want to interrupt this. It reminds him of those old Western movies, with a Mexican band playing the theme of 'a duel at dawn' in the background, lots of posturing and glaring going on.

"That was a stupid time and place for that decision."

Ryan doesn't answer for a moment, but then, surprisingly, he nods. "Maybe. Not a stupid decision, though."

That is kind of a non-issue, Cook thinks. As if Adam Lambert would argue against the joys of gay sex.

"But I do understand the concern and believe it or not, I even appreciate it." Something switches off in Ryan's eyes, and he looks genuinely tired. "Now, if we're done..."

"Are we?" Adam asks like he's far from sure of it. "I don't think we are."

Cook shakes his head. "Me neither." He's been willing to stay out of the verbal sparring match, but he's not about to let Ryan leave like this. They're all going to have to work together in the future; he's still bound by the contract, just like Adam is, and signing that paper with Idol was like a scene from Faust; selling his soul away for years on end. The industry's not that big and they'll bump into each other here and there, Ryan already hosting more events than is humanly possible, and this will stay hanging between them, like it or not.

"Because the next time you slip like that, we won't be around to save your sorry ass."

That brings the angry spark back into Ryan's gaze, but he doesn't deny the fact that there might be a next time.

At least it's all about sex and not drugs. Cook knows some people might see having sex with another man worse than a little pill here or there, but one can be careful with sex. At least more careful than with drugs.

Ryan shakes his head slowly. "My _ass_ didn't need saving, Adam."

"Really?" And it's funny how easily Adam's lips curl into a sneer. "You actually wanted to get fucked by that guy? Any guy?"

"Yes."

Cook should point out that they're way past the point of too much information. He's not really interested in other people's sex lives, and this mental image is about as bad as the ones he got from accidentally listening to Michael Johns have phone sex with his wife while on tour a couple of years ago. He still has nightmares from that.

He doesn't want to think about Ryan Seacrest looking for a one night stand with a nameless, faceless dude. It's none of his business, and he doesn't need the reasons or the explanations. Most of them are too easy to figure out as it is.

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

Adam spreads his arms a little. "Okay then."

Going past surreal now. Cook blinks at the way Adam looks at Ryan, open and inviting.

"I don't have anything better to do, and I wouldn't say no to you." Suggestive and low, Adam adds, "Unless you don't really want it after all."

Ryan is cocking his head a little, like he's listening to something from an earpiece, something only he can hear. He keeps staring at Adam, eyes wide and a little stunned.

"Do you mind if we use your couch for some fun, Cook? Wouldn't want to take your hospitality for granted." Now Adam sounds gently mocking, like he's playing a game and knows exactly how this will end.

"Go ahead." Cook has no idea what Adam's up to, but he has to trust he knows what he's doing. He's glad someone has a plan, because he thinks it'll take something drastic to get anything through.

"All right, then. Any time you're ready."

Very slowly, that famous grin slips back on Ryan's face. "Nice try," he drawls. "Just one problem with you calling my bluff." He lifts up with one surprisingly fluid movement, swinging one leg over Adam's, ending up sitting on his lap, face inches from his. "Not a bluff."

Cook watches unbelievingly as Ryan leans in closer and _nuzzles_ against Adam's jaw.

Doesn't seem like Ryan's wasting any time or having second thoughts about this whole thing. His hands disappear somewhere between their bodies, busy with pulling at Adam belt buckle, and Adam sits there, allowing it all for a long moment with a completely stunned expression on his face. This is definitely not going according to whatever plans he had.

"Um... Guys?" Cook says, his mouth suddenly dry. He didn't actually mean his couch was available for some spur of the moment sex.

Ryan doesn't stop for a second, his hands moving lower still. "Mm..." he sighs against Adam's skin, clearly pleased with himself.

"No." It's a calm and clear order, and Adam grabs Ryan's wrists and pulls them behind his back, holding them firmly and preventing all the touch. Pinning Ryan in place, he looks up at his face, searching for something. "Are you serious?" He sounds incredulous.

Instead of offering words, Ryan twists his hips closer once, then again in a slow but steady rhythm.

Cook watches Adam cock his head just a little, to grant access, and Ryan takes that as a permission, nuzzling against his throat enthusiastically. Adam allows it, his expression softening into something quite different from shocked.

Okay. Adam's plan officially _sucks_, because this isn't how you talk sense to someone. This is how you get laid.

"So this is it?" he asks, leaning forward a little. They need a voice of reason, and he's going to be it even if it kills him. He doesn't want to mention the Thing, he _really_ doesn't, but this has gone too far already. "Simon Cowell gets engaged and you decide to self-destruct by fucking anything that moves. No offense, Adam."

It doesn't take a degree in psychology to figure out why now and why like this. It was already awkward enough to see the tension on stage a few weeks back when he'd been performing in Idol, but whatever went on there wasn't his business. This is. Cook kind of feels sorry for Ryan, though he would never tell him that; it would require a more personal relationship than they have.

But he's not going to sit back and watch Ryan do this to himself.

"None taken," Adam mutters.

Ryan lets his head loll back, like he's gone boneless, held up only by Adam's grip on his wrists. Then he sighs and turns to look at Cook. "You really are one arrogant bastard, Cook."

That startles a bark of laughter out of Cook. Touché.

"But this has nothing to do with Simon." Ryan turns back to Adam, his hips moving in slow, sinuous circles as he rubs against him. "And I think I'd rather be fucked now than talk."

Adam is staring at him through half lidded eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. "Liar." He shifts a little, one of his hands still grasping Ryan's wrists firmly while the other one is left free to move to his hip to hold him still. "I think this has _everything_ to do with him."

Thank god for Adam Lambert.

"Does it matter?" There's honest curiosity in Ryan's voice. "Does it really matter?"

Adam doesn't answer him.

"I get it if you're not interested. Or if I'm not your type." Ryan isn't moving.

Adam still says nothing, just looks at him.

"I can just stop doing this," and yes, it's accented by another one of those sinuous twists, and Adam lets him, "And get off you." A grin. "Or I could get you off."

Roaring with laughter, Adam actually pulls Ryan closer, giving him a one armed hug. "You should stick to hosting, Ryan. You're terrible at talking dirty."

Cook wishes that's it, that they'll now stop doing that damn thing with the staring and the humping, because it's not funny, not something he should witness under his own roof, and he never did think sex was spectator sport.

"I can do that. Can you do this?"

Adam pulls back a little, hands still firmly on Ryan, and stares into his eyes. Cook doesn't know what he's looking for, but finally there's a genuine smile on Adam's lips as he nods. "I can do this."

This is a _bad idea_. Cook says it out loud, but apparently he's not loud enough for them to hear. He, on the other hand, hears the very quietly muttered "Please," coming from Ryan, and sees him lean in, just a little.

It's a smooth movement, executed perfectly, and Adam's mouth meets Ryan's in a kiss, nothing tentative in the touch of lips, just full on hunger and need. Ryan moans into the kiss, scooting forward just a little before he's stopped by the hand still firmly on his hip. He lets out a disappointed whine that dies with the next kiss, Adam's tongue muffling every sound with languid moves.

Cook stares at them, fidgeting restlessly, the collar of his shirt uncomfortably tight all of a sudden, and it's like watching porn in the company of others. Except this is weirder and he isn't sure they even remember his presence.

That becomes almost painfully obvious when Adam pulls out of the kiss and mutters, "You want me to fuck you, baby?" his lips against Ryan's ear. "Because you know I can. And will."

"_Please_."

It should sound incredibly cheesy and corny, but Cook just finds it oddly hot.

The right thing to do, the _sane_ thing to do, is to tell them to get the hell out of his house and go have sex somewhere else. Ryan is clearly not under the influence, so why should Cook care if he chooses to sleep with Adam?

The words die in Cook's throat as he sees Adam's hand move to open Ryan's shirt. He thinks about substitutes, about the way Ryan lets Adam manhandle him and clearly enjoys it, but he also thinks about the way Ryan fits nicely in Adam's lap, compact and cute and _single_, and he has to wonder just who is using whom. It's not worth mentioning, because Adam seems like a man who knows what he's doing, and Cook doubts any replacement issues would take that kind of self awareness away.

So yeah, he's a nice guy too, willing to turn the blind eye, and they can have the couch for the evening while he gets upstairs for a quick shower before crawling to bed. He's definitely not going to think about what's going on down here. Thank god for the thick walls.

He's still going to send Adam the bill for having his couch dry cleaned. Or maybe he'll just buy another couch. The bill still goes to Adam.

Almost wearily, he gets up. "I'll just leave you to it then," he says quietly, doubting they'll hear him now either.

Adam's gaze locks into his immediately, and his hands stop. "Yeah. Fuck. Sorry." He takes a few breaths. "Ryan? We should move this to..."

"No." Shaking his head, Ryan nuzzles against Adam's neck again, seemingly oblivious to everything that's going on.

"Cook, I'm..."

"Yeah, yeah." Cook's already seen too much to forget this. He'll probably end up imagining what will happen after he leaves or they leave or whatever, so he can afford being noble, this once. "I'll..." He glances at Ryan, who is rubbing himself against Adam again and swallows. The sight isn't exactly good for his higher brain functions. "Just go. Upstairs. Now."

He really needs to go right now. He also needs to get laid, soon, because it's ridiculous how easy his body is these days. Just focus on the uncomfortable and not on the hotness factor, and get the hell out while he still can.

Adam's gaze turns more focused, knowing. "You don't have to." He licks the corner of Ryan's mouth, a quick movement of his tongue.

That has to mean something other than what it sounds like. Cook swallows.

Smiling, Adam mutters, "Ryan? Cook's about to leave. You want him to go? Or do you think he should stay here?"

The most ridiculous question ever. Cook doesn't understand why Adam is even asking that.

Ryan stills for a moment and then, slowly, twists his body to look at Cook. His eyes are dark with lust, his expression the most unguarded Cook's ever seen, and it makes him shudder. "Stay."

"See? Ryan doesn't want you to go." A small pause. "And neither do I."

Cook gets the idea of showmanship better than most would understand; to him, Adam has always projected more a front than the real thing. More a show than real sexiness.

He's going to have to adjust his opinion now.

"I don't really know if watching's my thing," Cook offers, though maybe he'll have to adjust his opinion on that as well.

"I'm not talking about watching."

That shouldn't come as a surprise, but Cook still stares, eyes wide, trying to make his brain work. Just when did _anyone_ decide he might be interested in an impromptu threesome in his living room? It's certainly not something he's been thinking. He's not into group things, turning something easy and fun into gymnastics, and yet he can't say the idea repulses him in any way.

Adam's smile disappears slowly. "Unless I'm reading you completely wrong and you're not excited at all and that's actually embarrassment." He looks down at him pointedly and then up again. "Or unintentional."

Face heating up, Cook chuckles. "Very unintentional." This is his way out, one that'll make things easier later on, when they bump into each other in another smooching event.

He doesn't move, though.

"I..." He runs a hand through his hair. "Are you serious? You and him and me? For real?"

Adam nods.

There are dozens of reasons why he really shouldn't and why this is a bad idea, but he can't think of any right now. He's certain his reaction to these two making out in front of him already says he doesn't define himself as straight, and his body is still tingling from the adrenaline rush from earlier. It's a little like the euphoric feeling he gets on stage, but even more physical.

He's never thought of looking for what Adam's now suggesting, but he does wonder if he'll regret it if he says no. It's not like he can have anonymous sex either, and it's been a while.

"Yeah, okay. Why not?" What the hell. You only live once.

"I like your attitude, Cook," Adam smiles, clearly amused. "Now get your ass in here."

Cook isn't really sure about _that_ though. Three guys on one couch sounds a bit too much like acrobatics to him. "My couch is awfully small for the three of us." He has the fleeting thought that he's definitely thinking this too hard. It's sex. How hard can it be?

"True." Moving his hands to Ryan's ass, Adam lifts up with a practiced ease. Ryan holds onto him with an almost comical expression on his face as Adam carries him a couple of feet and then gracefully lowers him on Cook's plush rug, kneeling between his legs. "Better?"

"Yeah." Cook nods. He doesn't think about it, simply moves, and then he's kneeling by Ryan, the rug nice and soft under his knees. He looks down at Ryan, at Adam's hands slowly unbuttoning his shirt and smiles hesitantly.

Ryan lets out a snort of laughter that morphs into chuckles. "Oh man, this is insane." He doesn't sound like he thinks it's necessarily a bad idea.

Fingers lingering on the lowest button of Ryan's shirt, Adam asks, "Bad insane or really hot insane?"

"Really, really hot insane," Ryan says, lifting up a little and allowing Adam to help his shirt off. "Good insane. Hello, David." He looks relaxed, though the way he's sprawled shows he's also very hard, but the edge of desperation is gone from his voice.

"Hello, Ryan," Cook says, like they're just noticing each other. He moves his hand slowly, touches Ryan's bare arm, and his skin is warm and soft.

This is the moment when it becomes like Cook's always figured it would; awkward and silly, when he doesn't know what to do or where to touch, and he _knew_ threesomes were a bad idea.

"Now that we all know who we are, why don't you just kiss him, Cook?" Adam asks.

That's actually a very good idea. Especially since the only other thing Cook can think of is getting up and going to bed. He leans in, hand braced on the floor, and brushes his lips softly against Ryan's. He takes his time, enjoying the slow, gentle kiss, pulling back a little when he feels Ryan's mouth open under his.

He likes the way Ryan's eyes are slightly glazed, his lips parted, face flushed. Glancing at Adam, he notices him watching them with a smile on his face, hands moving up Ryan's thighs.

Ryan reaches out, flailing a little, and manages to grab Cook's shoulder. "Kiss me again!" he demands.

"Yeah." No complaints. Cook leans back, kissing Ryan again, and feels a sigh against his lips. It's easy to go with it, even from the slightly awkward angle, and Ryan tastes clean and hungry, his mouth eager under Cook's.

Cook pauses between kisses, moving slightly away to see if Ryan will follow; and he was right before, Ryan is a nuzzler, and the lips moving across the side of his face make him smile. Ryan lets out soft huffs that are not quite words, and then he leans his head back on the floor, arching his back, and lets out a deep groan.

It makes Cook draw back a little and blink before turning his head to see what's going on. Oh. So Adam isn't into taking things slow.

Eyes dark and intent, Adam stares down at Ryan, smiling at the way his touch makes him writhe. His hand is moving over the hard ridge trapped inside Ryan's pants, and Cook swallows.

"I..." Cook doesn't get to finish the thought, even inside his head, because Adam is pulling him closer with his free hand, his grasp tight on the front of his shirt, and Cook goes without hesitation. He doesn't have the time to think about anything before he's there with his lips against Adam's and oh, no wonder Ryan seemed so dazed.

Adam takes his mouth easily, not holding back, and Cook lets him do the kissing, the tasting. He lets Adam's hold keep him in place. Every swipe of Adam's tongue is demanding, and Cook _lets him_. He's out of breath, defenseless, and as Adam pulls back to breathe, there's a smile on his red, puffy lips.

So Cook's not the only one who can project smugness perfectly. Adam is doing a pretty good job on his own.

Cook smiles back and then leans in again on his own accord to kiss Adam, taking instead of just accepting, and it's a thrill when Adam's lips part for him. Though it turns into something more like a wrestling match than foreplay, there's a moment when Adam seems perfectly happy being kissed. Cook counts that as a win anyway.

Not that he's keeping score.

"Nice," Ryan breathes out, voice dreamy.

Cook turns to look at him, a bit breathless from the kiss. "Yeah." Reaching out, he pulls at Ryan's undershirt until it bunches up, showing skin and a faint trail of hair leading down from his navel. "Nice." His hands are soon joined by Adam's.

There's a lot of uncoordinated fumbling; Cook can't decide if he wants to kiss Adam again and then take off Ryan's clothes, or indeed kiss Ryan again and take off Adam's clothes, and the hands on his body aren't really helping with that. Ryan's shirt is off, and Cook reaches out for Adam's, fingers slipping uselessly on buckles and leather.

"Let me," Adam says, clearly amused.

Nodding, Cook leaves him to struggle with his leather top... thing, and concentrates on Ryan. This is more familiar, so it's easy to help him with his pants and socks. Ryan is squirming a little, thumbs pressed under the waistband of his briefs but staying there, not pushing them off, and his expression is a mixture of need and slight embarrassment.

"You're overdressed."

Cook wants to ignore what Ryan's saying, but it's true; he should definitely get rid of his clothes as well. "Yeah." He manages to yank off his own shirt even though he really just wants to roll on top of Ryan and rub himself against his body. Going for his fly, he's suddenly distracted by Adam crawling back between Ryan's legs, gloriously shirtless, his pants open.

He doesn't seem to be wearing anything under there.

It's pretty much impossible to concentrate on anything as difficult as a zipper after that.

"You're gorgeous," Adam mutters and leans down to kiss Ryan's chest. "Can't wait to see you naked." He looks up at Ryan and smiles before glancing to the side. "Both of you." He leans back in to kiss Ryan again, lower this time.

Ryan's gaze moves to Cook. "Yeah." Most of his embarrassment seems to have disappeared. "Still overdressed," he pants, hands going to join Cook's on his fly.

They manage to pull his zipper down together, and Cook pushes his pants down, awkward on his knees. "Wait." He squirms out of his pants and shoves them aside before running his hand down Ryan's chest to brush Adam's hair out of his face.

Adam moves to kiss the back of his hand, his teeth nipping at his knuckles before he returns to licking Ryan.

Wriggling under Adam's touch, Ryan somehow manages to grab at Cook's thigh, and Cook lets out a pleased sound. So close, _good_, that's the right direction. He can see Adam's hand is moving too, mirroring Ryan's movements on him.

"Touch him," he says to Adam, hoping Ryan will follow his lead.

With just the right touch, Ryan's fingers curl around his cock to pull it out, and damn, he should have dropped his briefs with his pants. Adam is sitting up, jerking Ryan off with an infuriatingly knowing grin on his lips, and Cook wants to kiss that away.

Ryan's grip tightens, and then he lets go, hands flailing, and he almost smacks Cook where it would _hurt_ and not in a good way. Cook pushes his hands away almost absentmindedly, scooting closer. It makes Ryan buck against Adam wildly, eyes huge.

"I think he likes that," Adam says, his grin growing wider.

Cook has no doubts about Adam's talents. "Yeah."

"No, _that_." Gesturing at Ryan's hands, Adam adds, "You might want to try that again."

It takes a moment for Cook to really decipher that, because he's not doing anything right now; tighty whiteys half pulled down just a little, his cock half way out, and then it hits; his hands had pushed Ryan's down for just a moment, pinning him in place.

"Oh." He looks down at Ryan. "You want me to hold you down?" he asks uncertainly.

Considering the way Ryan closes his eyes at that and nods, it's safe to say the answer is yes.

Cook hesitates for just a moment before reaching out to hold Ryan's wrists, first in a loose, tentative grip, then putting some real effort to it. He looks down, watching the twist of tendon and muscles as Ryan flexes his hands into fists but doesn't fight against his grip. Pinning someone down and holding him in place isn't his style, isn't his thing, but god if it doesn't make him just as hot as everything else tonight.

Like watching. Adam's got rid of Ryan's briefs and his own pants, and there is all that naked skin, on both of them, and how did Cook miss that happening? He doesn't really care. Adam's fingers are wrapped around Ryan's cock and his own, moving slowly up and down, and Ryan is making soft tortured sounds.

All Cook can think of is that Adam's hands are really huge. He can't stop staring at them, the flash of rings against flesh, and he wants to know how that feels.

"So, is this what you wanted?" Adam asks, looking down at Ryan.

It's a simple question, but apparently Ryan's having trouble concentrating on anything but Adam's touch. His eyes open, and he stares at Adam for a long moment before saying, "Yeah." He shakes his head right after that. "No."

Adam stills his hand and waits.

"I want you to fuck me."

Sure, it's what he said earlier, but hearing Ryan say it like this is surreal.

"You sure about that?" Adam asks, but doesn't sound serious. He's grinning widely.

"_Yes_," comes out, but it's not a plea, more a command. Ryan wraps his legs loosely around Adam's hips, the suggestion obvious. "Yes to everything. Anything." His hands flex again against Cook's hold.

Cook looks up into Adam's eyes, knowing that if he keeps watching Ryan offer himself like that, it'll all be over very quickly. "Condoms? Lube?" Adam is still looking at Ryan, but he isn't grinning anymore. His hand rests right there, on Ryan's hip bone, thumb rubbing over his skin.

A muttered, "Pockets," sends Adam to pull out thin slips of condom and lube out of Ryan's pants. Cook thinks back to the overly bright men's room and the condom machine near the hand dryers. He remembers wondering why the place was enabling the kind of stupidity happening right there in front of him. Now he's just glad he doesn't have to go searching for the stuff.

Adam looks at the lube slip disapprovingly before tossing it over his shoulder and pulls his own pants closer from the crumpled heap a few feet away, grabbing something from his pocket. It's surprising that he's managed to fit anything there, because those pants are _tight_, though Cook's not really surprised he carries lube with him.

There's a moment of almost breathless anticipation as Adam opens the small tube and squeezes some of its contents on his fingers. Cook stares at Adam's hands again and the way he moves with determination. There's still a hint of being on display, of showmanship, but it's gradually disappearing beneath genuine want.

"Okay, baby," Adam says before he touches Ryan, reaching between his splayed legs.

Cook feels Ryan tense with the first touch, his hands squeezing into fists again. Listening half-heartedly to the endearments and encouragements Adam keeps muttering, Cook fidgets a little to inch his briefs down without letting go of Ryan. Holding onto Ryan means he can't touch himself, turning himself into a captive as well.

He really likes the idea.

"You done this before, Ryan?" Adam asks quietly, fingers buried inside Ryan. "Ever been fucked before?" It sounds more like verbal teasing than a real question.

There's a tense silence, Ryan holding still and staring at Adam for a moment until he says, "Once."

That seems to startle Adam. Cook's certainly shocked by the admission. It's not like he's thought about it, not beyond what they're doing, but... Once? He wants to know about the significance of it, but Ryan's expression is now closed, a well practiced mask, and his erection is flagging slightly.

Adam stares at Ryan, worrying his lower lip, and then moves away just a little, his fingers ghosting over Ryan's groin, still glistening with lube. "Okay," he mutters carefully.

Nodding, Cooks lets out a deep sigh. He hopes Adam knows how to deal with this, because 'once' is worse than a simple yes or no, and getting this far and letting go will neatly destroy whatever they've managed to accomplish today. Almost sex is worse than bad sex, and he's not sure he can ever stand in front of Ryan Seacrest on stage with the memory of this hanging over them.

"Maybe we should try something else first," Adam suggests.

"Let go of me, Cook."

Cook takes his hands off Ryan's wrists immediately and sits back to watch Ryan pull up slightly to lean on his elbow.

"I said I've been fucked once. It doesn't mean I didn't like it or that I want you to stop," Ryan says, looking Adam in the eyes. "Don't you dare stop now."

Adam stares back, like he's trying to determine if Ryan really means it. "You mean that?"

"Yes." Ryan relaxes back down, like he wants to prove it, and stretches out his arms again, back to where they were before.

Scooting over, Cook shifts closer to Ryan and grabs one of his hands, holding it tight. It earns him a curious sideways glance from Ryan, but he just shakes his head and smiles. There's no way in hell he's going to keep holding the man down after that, and he's afraid if he opens his mouth right now, he's going to sprout some nonsense that shames even Adam's endearments.

"Hmm." Adam lets out a hum, like he's not completely satisfied. He runs the back of his hand down Ryan's thigh, teasing.

"Adam!" It's an annoyed growl that morphs into a groan a moment later. "_Please_."

Laughing, Adam nods. "Since you ask so nicely..."

Cook keeps holding Ryan's hand as Adam leans forward and licks his cock from base to crown before opening his mouth and taking it all in. He doesn't let go when Adam squeezes the tube empty before touching Ryan again, and knows what it means when Ryan draws in a hiss of breath and squeezes his hand tighter.

"Don't stop. Please, don't stop..."

His left hand free, Cook lets it circle lazily on Ryan's chest, thumb brushing against a nipple. Ryan looks at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, and Cook just has to lean in to kiss him again. He keeps touching Ryan's skin, fingers slipping through Adam's hair when they move low enough. He breaks the kiss to look at Adam, and the dual thoughts of 'fuck that's hot' and 'whoa how can he take it so deep' flash through his mind at the same time.

Not that he really cares how; more turned on than curious. Right now, someone could be standing next to him, explaining the meaning of life, and he just wouldn't care.

"David..." Ryan tugs at his hand.

Swaying a little, Cook lets Ryan pull him closer, almost choking on his breath as Ryan nuzzles his cock. For a minute here, he forgot he's not here as an audience.

He watches Ryan's eyes close as he opens his mouth, and the only word he can think of is pretty. So fucking pretty to have Ryan Seacrest lying there all naked with his lips parted, tongue wet and perfect on his skin. He doesn't say it out loud, because yeah, you don't call a man pretty even when he looks like this, when he _is_, but when Ryan does take his cock into his mouth, he growls out, "Fuck yeah."

Laughing, Adam reaches out for Cook with his free hand, runs his fingers down his face in a surprisingly tender gesture. "Fuck yeah, Cook? Really?"

"You are not... _fuck_," Cook shakes his head, unable to tell Adam to stop criticizing his choice of words during sex. This is definitely something Ryan's done more than just once, and Cook ignores Adam's amused expression, staring down at Ryan instead. "Good."

Ryan makes soft pleased noises.

There's some fumbling as Adam grabs a small package, his slick fingers slipping on it. Cook doesn't think, he lets go of Ryan and grabs the condom from Adam, rips the package open and then holds it, staring. He should probably hand it to Adam, or at least ask; instead he leans forward, elbow pushing Ryan's knee to the side. His hands are surprisingly steady as he grabs Adam's cock and rolls the condom in place.

He lets his touch linger for a moment.

Adam kisses him softly on the lips and says, "Thank you," before batting his hands away.

Reaching back to Ryan, Cook watches Adam slide his own slick hand over his rubber-sheathed cock. That sight and Ryan's lips are enough to make it hard to think.

"Ryan? Yeah, look at me. Good." Adam's voice is startlingly clear.

For a moment, Cook has absolutely no idea what is happening, and then Ryan's mouth leaves him, and there's bitter disappointment flashing through his mind. Ryan's grip turns into a vice, and he lets out a sound that's between a curse and a whine. Cook blinks at the sight; Adam holding one of Ryan's legs on his shoulder as he presses in with tiny movements of his hips, almost agonizingly slow, and Cook can't imagine such control.

There are words, Ryan cursing out loud and then saying he's fine, _fine_, and then a repeating staccato of _Adam, Adam, Adam_ while Adam mutters half broken _fuck, so tight_ and Cook thinks if he had any brain power left, he'd simply jerk off to this, a few thrusts into his own fist and then shoot all over them both.

Because this? So fucking hot.

He thinks Ryan's probably forgot he's holding his hand, but takes the desperate movement as a request and moves with him, wrapping his fingers around Ryan's cock. It's a bit clumsy with too many people, too many hands, but Ryan groans out a litany of "_Fuck, like that, fuck, so good!_" so it's all right.

Leaning down, Cook kisses Ryan, swallowing his gasps and words. A hand lands on his head, fingers grabbing at his hair to keep him in place, and he doesn't care who's holding him down; he's not going anywhere.

He doesn't let go as Ryan tenses under him and then jerks hard. Kissing the side of Ryan's mouth, he whispers something he doesn't even understand himself, his fingers slick and finally relaxing over Ryan's.

Ryan gasps for breath, eyes wide, and Cook thinks he looks really damn awesome right now, flustered and satisfied. He's kind of disappointed he missed watching him come, and with that in mind, he looks up.

Ignoring his own hard on, Cook keeps staring at Adam, who just moments ago was so calculating and in control, and is now shivering, just a little, like he's trying very hard not to let go. All traces of posturing are gone.

"You're so fucking hot," Cook mutters out loud, eyes on Adam's face.

Adam's hips snap forward, his pace shattered. He bites his lip, looking almost pained, and then growls out, "Not yet!" It sounds rather desperate.

Cook finally remembers he has two hands, and grabs his own cock, fingers slippery with his own precome. Eyes wide, he stares at Adam, matching his rhythm with every stroke.

It lasts only for a moment. Then Adam lets go, his face flustered, mouth slightly open, whole body shaking. He looks absolutely gorgeous as he comes.

Then it's all over, Adam pulling out and doing something to the condom; and Cook thinks he should be disappointed or surprised or _something_, but he's still caught in the hotness of the whole thing, focusing on Ryan's sprawl on the floor, on all that naked skin, on the look on Adam's face as he came. He doesn't need more than this.

"That was quick," Adam says quietly, shaking his head and smiling. "Sorry."

Cook doesn't think anyone should apologize for that. "Yeah. It's okay." It's not like he didn't appreciate the show.

Adam reaches out, practically crawling over Ryan who doesn't seem to mind. "Let me." His hand closes over Cook's, displacing his grip on his own cock.

"Okay," Cook manages, staring.

"I could suck you off if you want." Some of the earlier teasing is back in Adam's voice.

It's not really a question of whether or not Cook wants Adam to blow him. He makes a wheezing sound, shaking his head, because it's bad enough to watch Adam's hand move on his cock; he's not gonna last two seconds if he thinks about Adam's mouth.

"Or you can fuck me."

Cook can't comprehend that for a moment, because Adam's lips didn't move, and then he looks down at Ryan. "What?"

Legs spread wide, looking satisfied and boneless, Ryan smiles at him. "Come on, David." And he can't possibly mean that. "Fuck me." Oh. He can.

It's too much. Cook wants to, but his hips are already moving faster, fucking Adam's fist in a rhythm that won't last for long.

Cook grabs a hold of the back of Adam's neck, demanding something, hears Adam growl at that, but the touch on his cock doesn't falter for a moment. Adam's grip tightens, just a little, and it's rough and good. He doesn't care, not now, really not now, and _now_. Eyes fluttering half closed, he still sees his come hit Ryan's chest, and the sight is almost too much to bear.

"Oh my fucking god," he gasps, leaning against Adam's shoulder for support. He tries to breathe evenly, his heart racing.

Adam pats his thigh, hand sticky, and it's nice and friendly, not demanding anything. "That was awesome."

"Mmh." It's clear from Ryan's rather dazed hum that he agrees with him. "Messy." His fingers are glistening wet as he rubs his hand down his chest.

There's something about it that makes Cook smile smugly as he sits up, one hand still on Adam's shoulder for balance.

"Yeah." He likes the way Ryan looks, all messy and wet and, well, fucked. Adam's not much better, his eyeliner smudged and hair standing up.

Cook feels fantastic right now. It's funny how he hasn't even noticed how tense he's been for some time now until he's not anymore. The weeks in the studio and the fast pace trip to Africa and the cameras following him everywhere have been great, but they've taken their toll.

"You mind if I grab a shower?" Ryan asks, sitting up a little. He's reaching out for his clothes, but clearly decides against it at the last moment, staring at his sticky hand.

Gesturing vaguely to the door, Cook says, "Guest room's down the hall. There are extra towels in the bedroom, and the couch unfolds into a bed, so you'll have plenty of room for the night. Mi casa, su casa and so forth." He thinks he should feel awkward or something right now, but it's almost like after a late evening with the guys at his place, with some PS3 and pizza, everyone crashing for the night wherever they like.

A stunned silence greets his words.

There's something odd on Ryan's face, his body tensing up with obvious discomfort.

Cook shrugs. "I have a house rule." He really doesn't, but he might as well have, considering the way his dates go. Not one to kick anyone out, he always has room for his date; though he's never told anyone to spend the night in the spare room before. "If I take someone home with me, they stay for breakfast. No exceptions."

"I like your rule," Adam says, already up on his feet. He stretches luxuriously, and then grimaces at a loud pop coming from his back. "Oh man, I'm _not_ getting too old for sex on the floor."

Ryan doesn't move. "You want us to stay for the night so we can then have a nice uncomfortable morning after scene?" There's some amusement in his quip, but it sounds forced.

"No." Cook shakes his head. "So that we can have some coffee together and a polite conversation about how much fun we had and then decide who's going to take my rug to the dry cleaners." He knows his schedule; more time at the studio and then Idol Gives Back and it's ridiculous how they're now back to awkward silences and possible disasters.

They're going to sit down for breakfast and talk like normal people. Cook for one is not going to pretend this didn't happen.

"Oh." Looking genuinely surprised, Ryan finally nods. "Okay. I think that's a good idea." He accepts Adam's hand and pulls himself up. "Thank you." There's just a momentary pause before he adds, "For everything."

Cook smiles at that. He's got the feeling that they'll survive tomorrow as well. "I could say the same to you." The pleasure is definitely mutual, though he does know Ryan means more than just the sex.

"Definitely." Adam nods.

Not bothering to cover his nakedness, Ryan heads to the door, his bare feet making no sound on the floor. "See you in the morning then," he says over his shoulder.

As soon as he disappears from sight, Adam lets out a deep breath. "Man. That was pretty smart of you, Cook. You did good."

Cook doesn't think he means the sex either. "I have my moments." He yawns. "You weren't bad yourself. Do you think he'll be all right?"

"Maybe. We'll see." Leaning down a little, Adam plants a sloppy, wet kiss on Cook's lips. "Good night."

It's so casual, Cook has to smile at him. "Good night, Adam." He doesn't bother to pick up his clothes either, kicking off his briefs that are still tangled around his left ankle before heading to his own bedroom. Thank god for having his own bathroom right there.

A shower and then to bed. He's pretty sure they can manage breakfast tomorrow without it turning into a disaster, mostly because Adam doesn't seem like a man who does awkward morning after scenes. Not that Cook's an expert, but he has a good feeling about this, better than he probably should, considering. He doesn't do casual sex with friends or colleagues, and with all the things Ryan was willing to do today, it's clear the man has issues.

Like Adam said, they'll have to wait and see.

He's probably going to overthink this whole thing through when he has time, when the album's done and he has some free time in his hands. But he doubts he'll have any regrets about this night.

Definitely not the way he thought he'd spend the evening, but not bad.

Not bad at all.

* * *


End file.
